


A Fix It Fic Only Instead of Fixing It, I Made It Worse

by taylor_tut



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fever, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Poisoning, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Sick Character, Sick Merlin (Merlin), Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23321257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: Because WHO among us didn’t want arthur to be the one to find merlin after he was stung by the serket in season 3
Comments: 15
Kudos: 633
Collections: Our Poor Lovable Merlin





	A Fix It Fic Only Instead of Fixing It, I Made It Worse

“Merlin,” the Great Dragon calls, his voice booming behind Merlin as he tries to get his bearings back. He’s been placed in front of the castle, yes, but which way does he go from here? “You must be careful. You’ve survived the worst of the serket’s venom, but you are far from healed.”

Merlin nods, makes a wavy gesture with one quite numb hand. “Right,” he says, “of course.” He steps forward, then freezes, closing his eyes against the spinning sensation that threatens to take his feet out from under him. 

“Merlin,” the Dragon calls again, and Merlin can’t keep the irritation from his tone. 

“What?” he snaps, wincing only slightly when Kilgharrah gestures with his head to the west. 

“Thanks,” he says sheepishly, bowing away towards Giaus’ chambers for some much-needed rest. 

He barely remembers the night. He supposes he has a conversation with Giaus, one which must convince him that he’s unharmed, because he wakes up shivering in a pool of sweat in his own bed. It’s a bit before sunrise, earlier than Giaus will wake on a day where Merlin has kept him up so late, so he hurries to get ready and out of the house before Giaus can see him. 

By the time he gets to Arthur’s chambers, he’s dizzy and weak and chilled to the bone despite the relative heat of the day. It’s by muscle memory alone that he’s managed to get here and by sheer luck that no one has attempted to stop him, despite that he’s dodged several strange and suspicious looks from other servants he passes, so he supposes that he must still look as half-dead as he feels. 

When Merlin enters Arthur’s chambers, he immediately forgets his plans to force cheer and energy into his voice in an attempt to throw Arthur off the idea he might still be unwell, because though he’s only been gone a few days, Arthur’s chambers are an absolute disaster. 

“What happened?” he demands incredulously, rousing a sleeping Arthur who doesn’t miss a beat. 

“‘What happened?’” Arthur parrots. “I had to make due without a servant; that’s what happened.”

Merlin scoffs, reaches out for one of Arthur’s bedposts to keep himself upright. “I wasn’t gone for that long.” 

“Without my permission.” 

“What if I was dying?” he asks, and in his defense, he still might be. 

“I wouldn’t be complaining!” Arthur replies. It’s said mockingly, but it still stings. Rather, it probably would, if Merlin really felt like he were all the way present, but as it stands, he barely reacts. “But you're not. So where were you?”

Merlin doesn't expect much of a response when he says, “I WAS dying.” He doesn’t get one; not at first. For a moment, Arthur rolls his eyes.

However, after a silence in which Merlin still doesn't make any move except to sway once against the bed and catch himself, Arthur sits up.

“Gaius said he hadn't seen you.”

“He hadn't,” Merlin is quick to defend. “He was running low on some herbs, so I went out to collect more, and he didn't know.” It is becoming alarming just how easy it is to lie.

He feels like he's barely blinked, but he must have lost a few seconds at least, because when he opens his eyes, Arthur is supporting him under one shoulder and helping him ease down to the floor. 

“You were gone that long collecting herbs?” 

Merlin shrugs. “Got a bit turned around.” 

“I should say you would, with a fever like that,” Arthur accuses. His hand is cool against Merlin’s back and though his face betrays nothing, Merlin can tell he's concerned. 

“Well, clearly, you can't work like this. I'll have one of the guards get you to Giaus.”

Merlin laughs. “I'm not that ill,” he says, even though objectively he knows it's even worse than he's letting on--he should be dead. “I can walk myself.” 

It's Arthur's turn to roll his eyes. “Right, and have you swoon down the stairs like a maiden and get yourself killed?”

Merlin wants to argue, but before he can, Arthur is lifting him roughly to his feet without even a word of warning, and the way it tugs on the sting has him crying out and seeing black static. It must be just as jarring for Arthur to hear, because he all but drops Merlin, pushing him up to sit on the edge of the bed as an afterthought. 

“What’s wrong with you?” he demands. Merlin shakes his head, aware that he's now shivering so hard that his teeth are clacking together despite sweating. 

“Nothing,” he swears, but it's futile: Arthur is already onto him, hiking up his shirt before he can stop him.

He isn't sure what he expects until he hears something he doesn't: an empathetic hiss of air sucked through clenched teeth and a low curse. 

“Merlin,” Arthur says, and trails off when he doesn't know what else to say.

“It's nothing; fell on top of a fire—”

“This is no burn,” Arthur snaps. “I've never seen a wound like this on a man who lived to tell about it.”

“I… It looks worse than it is.”

“Really? Because it LOOKS,” he spits, and Merlin wishes he were tracking the conversation well enough to know why Arthur was mad, “like a sting from a serket.”

Exhaustion pulls him forward so bonelessly that Arthur has to steady him again. His face is unreadable.

“That's what it is, right?”

Merlin can't do anything but nod.

Arthur sighs. “I won't ask you how you survived,” he says, “because I doubt you even know. You're an idiot for not going to Gaius first. And I know you didn't, because he'd have never let you out of his chambers in this state.”

“I know,” Merlin says miserably. Now discovered, there’s no use in hiding it, anyway. He feels Arthur shift uncomfortably before reaching to the floor where he's tossed his cape—he really is hopeless without Merlin—and wrapping it around Merlin’s shoulders. Arthur stands, the makes an impatient gesture. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he demands. “Are you going to get to your feet, or shall I call another servant to fetch a wheelbarrow?” 

Merlin blinks a few times, shakes his head to clear it. “Sorry,” he says, getting to his feet with great effort. Arthur’s hands on his forearms are the only thing that keep him from toppling forward, and he has to lean an embarrassing amount of his weight against Arthur, though if it bothers him, he doesn’t say anything. Perhaps Merlin weighs so little that Arthur, in all his strength, doesn’t even notice.

Whatever the reason, Arthur has clearly decided that he’s going to take Merlin to Gaius himself, because he doesn’t shove him into the arms of the guards as they pass them in the hall, nor does he say anything in response to the inquisitive glances of the palace guards. 

“Honestly, Merlin, every time I start to think you’ve gained a bit of wits about you, you do something even stupider than I thought you capable of.” 

Merlin nods. He can’t help but agree, really. He has his reasons for his actions, sure, but damn if he doesn’t regret them in this moment. 

“I’m sure Gaius will lecture me later,” Merlin interjects, “so perhaps this can wait? My head is pounding.” 

Arthur scoffs. “Are you telling me to shut up?” he asks, and Merlin shrugs. 

“Well, if you’re offering…”

“I’m going to let that go only because a serket’s venom is cooking your brain,” Arthur warns, but there’s no heat behind it. Merlin, finding it too tiring to keep up the banter, quiets anyway. He’s sure the break won’t last long, but he’s grateful for it regardless. He focuses on putting one foot in front of the other and trying not to think about what Gaius is going to say when he finds out. 


End file.
